


Bitter

by robertstanion



Series: PEIPHQ Shenanigans [6]
Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst, Anyways, Apologies, Breakups, Crying, Cuddles, M/M, Songfic, They don't break up, and suppressed trauma, but hes a submissive bottom, i cant let them be happy, john mcnamara has anger issues, or do they, song: Bitter - The Vamps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robertstanion/pseuds/robertstanion
Summary: When a fool and a hero combine paths, it can never really end as well as people expect, especially when the hero is the general of the united states military and the hero is a physicist. Yet, they managed to work for this long, so surely a fight won’t be the thing to end them, right?
Relationships: Xander Lee/John McNamara
Series: PEIPHQ Shenanigans [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764349
Kudos: 7





	Bitter

**Author's Note:**

> not me making a song about sex to fit with the idea of breaking up. no, not me (bitter is about sex and i was being sarcastic but i realise i dont know the tone tag for sarcasm)
> 
> anyways !!! trigger warnings: anger, arguments, physical violence but at the same time not, mentioned physical violence, lashing out during a fight towards a significant other (nobody gets hurt)

Dating the whirlwind that was John McNamara was interesting to say the least. There were days where John would set his sensory issues aside and, on their days off, they’d text each other endlessly until one fell asleep, but then there’d be times where John would leave him on read for twelve hours with no indication he was on a mission. This sent Xander often into a frenzy, where he panicked, the only logical conclusion he could come to was John was dead, and he wasn’t coming back. The only comfort Xander usually managed to get to relieve his worries was when he went into work the next day and John was in his office. So far, the idea that John was dead hadn’t come true, but he didn’t want to speak too soon.

But lately, John was being more of, well, a _dumbass_ than he usually was. He was throwing his life carelessly on the line as if he had nobody to live for. It was disheartening. Was Xander nothing to him anymore? Had they broken up without him knowing? Is that why John was starting to leave him on read for longer hours and not return the glances he shot him in the corridor? It wasn’t like he could ask anyone if John was alright without raising suspicion. John was still in the closet, and Xander wouldn’t dare think of outing him to the rest of the precinct. He wasn’t that kind of person. But…but sometimes, he often thought about what things would be like if he _could_ ask around. He wished they didn’t have to hide as much as they did already.

John hid for many different reasons. From his sexuality, his past, his trauma…but also from enemies on missions. He was the general of the United States military, so it was realistic how he had to be out on missions so much, but lately, those kinds of missions became frequented. He wished John didn’t have to put himself out there, but he could only sit back in his lab and monitor him the best he could. John was young, agile, and had the eye of an eagle to see him through the mission, but it didn’t mean there weren’t consequences. There were always consequences. Many a time than not, his boyfriend was so _careless_ that he didn’t consider his actions before going ahead with the plan he made up on the spot, which often led to Xander sitting by his bedside with a displeased look on his face as the other man smiled sheepishly.

With these missions came scars, but nobody got to see the true extent of John McNamara’s injuries like Xander did. The physical ones, at least. The man was still too stubborn to discuss any trauma he carried, and as far as Xander knew, there was quite a lot. Recently, Xander found John staying at his house for dinner even if they weren’t on dates, and he stayed late into the evening. Late nights called for winding up in each other’s arms, fingers tracing over new scars, and ones that were fading. They came with the removal of clothes that dropped to the floor and bruises that formed on pale skin. It came with John, gripping Xander’s back tightly, and sweat hitting the bedsheets as they tangled with each other, with only a blanket protecting them from the outside world.

Intimacy was interesting when it came to them. It came in short, spontaneous bursts that they didn’t speak about after. And it was strange because now they were finding themselves in the scenario a lot more when they fought. It served for something interesting, especially with them borderline screaming at each other. The points they raised were the ones they’d already said, nothing new. Unfortunately, it’d been like it for days at that point, and Xander feared his and John’s relationship wasn’t getting out of this. They couldn’t keep screaming at each other and lie in bed with their backs turning away from each other as they stayed in silence. John would grab his clothes and change before shutting the door with more force than Xander liked.

The last fight they had was, by far, the worst one they’d experienced. After the last fight, they didn’t speak at all. No texts, no glances in meetings, no brushing hands in the cafeteria as they went to get their lunches. Nothing. They had the fight on the Friday, and by the next Tuesday, there were no signs of communication sparking again between them. They went from co-workers, and then to lovers and back to strangers in a blink of an eye.

To Xander, he thought it was the end of them. It was logical to think that after the fight. That time, John didn’t hold back. More points were raised, new ones, but it didn’t mean they were good. As John got more worked up, his voice became a toxic that embedded itself into Xander’s tear ducts. Every tear that fell down his face during that fight had burned his skin. He’d tried to resolve the fight as soon as he realised it was escalating too quickly, but John didn’t stop. He didn’t know _when_ to stop until it was too late. Until John’s anger levels reached a new height, a fear-inducing kind of height that Xander couldn’t ignore. ‘ _Jesus Christ, Xander, you’re just a fucking physicist! Why are you trying to tell me to be more careful on missions?’ ‘No, Xander! I don’t care! I didn’t have to give you the job and I still did so stop trying to control me!’ ‘Alright, so you aren’t controlling me yet you’re trying to stop me going on missions- I am your GENERAL-!’_ As soon as John’s hands grappled Xander’s jacket collar, and Xander held his breath, did John finally stop.

He knew John had a temper, but that…that was too far. Xander blocked out the fight. He tried to pretend it was normal, and that John hadn’t meant it, but there was something in him that couldn’t shake the feeling he did almost get severely hurt by him. The fight went too far, and to Xander, they were nothing. He couldn’t bring himself to speak to John. He wasn’t John when they had that fight, he was his general. He didn’t separate his work persona from his true self, and it led to Xander being seen as the enemy.

The Tuesday passed. They were supposed to have a date that night. They didn’t text each other to confirm they were still going. If John showed to the restaurant, he would have been alone. Xander realised he’d fallen in too far. He’d fallen too hard for John, and he almost got hurt because of it. The Wednesday came, and Xander was sat on his couch in a hoodie, with a breakup text lingering in the message section. He got ready to hit send when a knock at the door startled him.

He looked to it and debated not answering it, but the nagging feeling in the bottom of his stomach was telling him he should. He flicked on the light in the hallway and grabbed his keys, unlocking the door. Originally, he thought it was one of his neighbours asking if he’d seen her cat again, but it wasn’t. As the door opened, and the porch light turned on, he did _not_ expect to see his boyfriend standing in front of him. His shoulders were low, and he was walking away. He was defeated, or so it seemed. He was still in his uniform, and Xander’s heart skipped a beat when he realised John was probably there to fire him. He wiped his eyes and began to search to see if the note had been left, but then John turned without Xander realising.

“I didn’t realise you were awake.”

John’s voice…it was quieter than Xander would like to admit. Any strength that was usually there was replaced by some sort of blockage. Xander couldn’t help but look back to him, and it took everything in him for his eyes not to widen in shock. John had deep bags under his eyes, and there were tear tracks that stained his pale skin. His hair was thrown up in a ponytail, and Xander could see it hadn’t been brushed for a while. He hated to think it, but John was a spectre of himself. 

“The light was on.”

Xander’s reply came sharp and brisk. He was still hurt, and he probably would be for quite some time. If he kept his guard up, then John would leave, surely.

"Just-“ John sighed and looked at him in the eyes. “Please, can we talk?”

His voice shook. John’s voice shook, and they weren’t at the stage in their relationship where they could comfort each other like that. He’d never seen John cry, and to see his eyes so broken, so dull, dare he say it scared him? To see his boyfriend, his boss, without his usual strength. It wasn’t right. Maybe that was why he stepped aside, letting John in despite what his gut was telling him to do.

Xander flicked the light off and locked the door once again when John came in. He shut the door to the living room and pulled the curtains closed, the humming of the TV the only thing to separate the silence between them. John had taken his seat in the chair, so Xander took his usual place on his spot on the couch. He grabbed his phone and switched it off. He didn’t want John to see the text he’d almost sent. That could make things worse.

“I’m sorry.”

A meek voice spoke from the armchair as Xander folded the lid of his laptop closed which caused him to stop what he was doing for a second. He swallowed his fears and looked at John, who had his head looking directly down at the floor. His shoulders were shaking, but it was only apparent to those with the finest eye, such as Xander himself.

“Pardon?”

“I’m sorry for…for everything,” John said and ran a hand over his hair instead of through it like he usually did. “I just…I didn’t mean to bring ‘The General’ home and I didn’t mean to get so angry and…and if you want to break up we can, I’ll understand, but I’m really sorry…and I’m sorry I haven’t spoken to you at all this week, and I’m sorry, Xander, I’m so so sorry…”

Xander looked at him and sighed gently. “Look, John I just- I could have gotten hurt, I could have gotten so hurt. And _I_ became conflicted because I was trying to help you come to terms with how it was affecting me, your recklessness, but you didn’t seem to care and I was being brushed off again. It wasn’t fair because I’ve only ever stood up for you, I’ve always been the agent by your bedside, and you held my collar and-“

“I know…” He took a breath. “So I guess…we’re over.”

“It appears that way.”

After came a dull, blunt silence. Neither dared to move as tension filled the air. Had they really just broken up? For good? The realisation started to settle in the pits of Xander’s heart and he looked up at John, who was still looking towards the floor. “Unless…we can work it out?”

“Please.”

John’s voice cracked as he finally looked up at Xander. “Please I just-I don’t know what I’d do without you, because you’re right, and I’m sorry for not taking you into consideration lately and-“

Xander held his arms out to him, and John stood and _ran_ into them. Xander embraced him in a tight hug, holding him close. “I’m still yours, okay? Honey, you’ve got all of me. I’m yours.” He set John’s beret to the side and kissed the hair, that was slightly frizzed underneath it. In a way, the kiss broke the boundaries, and there was now a sweetness that filled the sour taste he’d had in his mouth for the duration of the possible breakup. John, in return, dug his fingers into Xander’s back, gripping him close, burrowing his face in his chest. Xander had to pretend John wasn’t crying. It’d only make him cry himself.

“I’m tired…”

“You need sleep?” Xander asked, with his voice now having an added waver to it, and John nodded. He kissed his forehead that time and stood, leaving the beret on the couch. “Come on, I’ll take you up.”

It was then and there Xander decided John bought out the worst in him. They just had a fight, and the faintest trace of a tear falling from the saddened eye of the general was enough for him to flip his attitude. In a way, it was supernatural, paranormal. It was like the restraints of the dead were tugging at his heartstrings, trying to control how he felt towards his boyfriend, and for once…he was glad he didn’t listen to his gut.

“You don’t mind if I have a cigarette, do you?” John asked weakly once in Xander’s room, and Xander shook his head, walking to open the window for him.

“I’m going to go and changed into my pyjamas. Help yourself to any pair, I don’t give a fuck about which you wanna wear tonight. Just get out your uniform.” He grabbed his pyjamas and let his eyes linger on John before he turned and walked into the bathroom, changing as fast as he could. He sighed and looked at himself in the mirror. John was bad for him, and yet, it was so hard to quit thinking about him on a daily basis, it was so hard to let him go. If only the man got therapy, then maybe, maybe things would turn out differently. Maybe Xander wouldn’t feel guilty about loving him so badly.

It was impossible to deny his feelings now. They were still in such a juvenile stage of what ‘they’ were, and he was finding it impossible to hold back, and he had to because he respected John wanting to remain in the closet for the time being. It didn’t mean it wasn’t painful most days. Love hurt, and he wasn’t wanted about the consequences that followed. It was damning. With John, even sugar tasted sweeter out of his hands. He was a drug, and he was addicted. Xander always found himself going back to him and it wasn’t fair. For the sweetness of John’s kisses, he’d drop everything, all of his plans. Even if John turned cold and he, himself, turned bitter.

He climbed into bed and put his phone on charge. John was still changing, the scent of the cigarette dancing throughout the air. Xander sighed quietly to himself as he thought about the situation he was wound up in. He was sick of all the arguing, and he hoped this proved they could move on from their toxicity. Yet, even with the knowledge that things could turn south far too quickly for comfort, the taste of John always got him back in bed. But John…he was dangerous. He’d build a bridge only then to burn it down if it meant his anger could finally be matched to a different kind of heat.

But why? Why does he stare into John’s eyes and get tongue tied so often? Was it the fact that he was tied to John’s power? Maybe it was because he was attracted to John’s dominance in the field, maybe he was just attracted to John, but either way, one look in those icy blue eyes of his and he was gone, powerless. He lost all control and became some sort of animal, his teeth grazing against John’s neck constantly. Maybe it was a bad thing, or maybe it wasn’t. Only they’d be able to decide.

John climbed into bed, and Xander knew because the duvet was pulled more in his direction. Xander made the move of turning over, lying on his side, looking at him but not in a weird way. It was never the same day with him. It was always, and only, a bit of sugar and a bit of spice, but it was bittersweet in the sense he was always bought back to him. He was cold, and he was bitter, and yet, Xander didn’t want it any other way.   
  
John lay still, so Xander moved his arm over his waist, gently kissing his jaw. “Night, John,” he said softly. At the touch, John rolled over into Xander’s arms, but it appeared he fell asleep quicker than he ever let on. Xander’s heart gave a flutter as he reached to turn the lamp off, holding John close to him. Hopefully John would listen now.

Hopefully.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> anwyays john mcnamrandnrmara ra r a raa rar a


End file.
